Distractions
by LornaWinters
Summary: Sisko and Garak exchange idle gossip about a Romulan commander and a mysterious lady in order to get their minds off of the war with the Dominion. The sequel to "Clarity of Purpose."
1. Chapter 1

"Ladies and gentlemen, if there is nothing further to discuss, I would like to invite you to Quark's later this evening to meet our newest allies." After the day he had just had, what Captain Benjamin Sisko really wanted was to go to his quarters and just sleep. Keeping the Klingons and the Romulans away from each others throats was exhausting enough. Now he had more reluctant allies to please.

Admiral Ross, sensing Sisko's fatigue, chimed in, "These people may be what we would consider primitive, but I've seen them in action. They're excellent fighters, and they really want to meet the people on whose side they will be fighting."

"A drink before a great battle," Chancellor Martok smiled. "There's nothing I like better! I haven't even met these people, and I like them already."

Senator Letant rolled in his eyes in annoyance at the Klingon. "Who are these people, anyway, Admiral? I have never heard of this Nua Breizh."

Out of the corner of his eye, Sisko noticed that one of the Romulan Commanders, Bochra, who had just given a presentation on the position of the Romulan fleet, had tensed slightly at the mention of the planet. No one else seemed to take notice of Bochra's reaction.

Admiral Ross showed no sign of impatience. "Neither had I, Senator, until they joined us. They're the descendants of humans who left earth shortly after the founding of the Federation. Nua Breizh translates as "New Brittany" in old Gaelic. Although they have maintained some trade relations with us, they have always refused invitations to join the Federation because they disagree with many of our ideals, including the Prime Directive. It wasn't until they were directly threatened by the Dominion that they decided to finally take us up on our latest offer. They have pledged half of their population to fight, which will be an incredible help."

"Very well, Admiral," Letant said. "General Velal and Commander Bochra will be pleased to represent the Romulan Star Empire at this 'gathering.'"

"And Worf and_ I_ will represent the Klingons," Martok countered. "We will drink to death and glory!"

Sisko noted the 'volunteered' Romulan representatives' lack of enthusiasm with amusement. Then he remembered Commander Bochra's facial expression a moment earlier. Unlike everyone else in the room, the Bochra had heard of Nua Breizh. It cleary had made a significant impression on the man. Sisko's curiosity replaced his fatigue. He welcomed the distraction. What was Bochra's connection with that planet? Sisko intended to find out. It would be the perfect distraction to keep his mind off other matters he preferred not to think about.


	2. Chapter 2

"Bochra?" Chief O'Brien thought for a moment. "Oh, yes, my old shipmate Geordi LaForge got stranded with him on a particularly nasty planet. They survived because they were able to put their differences aside and work together. So he's a Commander now, eh? That's impressive. Geordi said that, for a Romulan, Bochra wasn't a bad fellow, but Geordi always made friends easily. I didn't meet him, but I hope that's helpful to you anyway, sir."

Sisko nodded thoughtfully. "Sure, Chief. Thanks a lot."

"No problem. Oh, sir, were you going to Quark's this evening?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes. I'll be there. You?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world, sir. I can't wait to meet these people. They're Celts, kin to us Irish, you know," O'Brien stated proudly.

Sisko grinned. "See you there, Chief."


	3. Chapter 3

"What can I do for you, Captain?" Garak was hard at work on a shimmering garment. He didn't look up when Sisko walked into his shop.

"I came to ask you if you were going to Quark's this evening."

"Well, I was considering it until I heard that the Romulans were going. I thought it might be best if I didn't attend. You understand, of course."

"Of course." Sisko pretended to examine a dress hanging on a rack.

"Shopping for Kasidy?"

"Maybe… Speaking of the Romulans, do you know Commander Bochra?"

Now Garak did look up from his work. "Maybe…" he said.

Seeing that Garak was not going to volunteer anything else, Sisko decided to get right to the point. "I was just wondering what his connection to Nua Breizh might be?"

"I can't imagine what that would be, Captain. Unless…" The Cardassian's eyes narrowed, making him resemble a snake. "This isn't another conspiracy is it?"

Sisko chuckled. "No, Garak, thank God, no. Just a little mystery to get my mind off this war. Gossip, if you want to call it that."

To Sisko's surprise, Garak accepted his answer. "Well, then, that's different. Yes, I have met Bochra. He was only a Centurion when I left Romulus, though. Why do you think he has a connection to Nua Breizh?"

"He tensed when it was mentioned in a meeting this afternoon."

"Hmm," Garak replied thoughtfully. "That does add to my theory."

"I knew you would have one."

"This is all speculation, of course, but I do recall that he admired a human lady of considerable rank on Romulus. Though no one seemed to know just exactly where she came from, it was widely known that she was not a Federation citizen. She was the consort of his political rival, the son of a Senator. Bochra met her when his commander attempted to disgrace her consort while he was offworld. The lady demanded satisfaction from his commander in front of the entire Senate and the Praetor himself. Bochra was greatly impressed by this."

"Really?" This diversion was beginning to sound more interesting than Sisko had first imagined it would be.

"Yes. And there is more to the story, if you're interested..."

"You have my full attention, Mr. Garak."

"Bochra's commander, who happened to be female, had apparently been previously spurned by the lady's consort. In relatiation, she had him assasinated and made it appear as though his wife was responsible. This fact was unknown to everyone at the time, including myself, I must admit. Her husband's family, like everyone else, believed that she had conspired with his rivals to get him out of the way in order to advance herself. So his family claimed the right of vengeance. Fortunately, she was smuggled out of the Romulan Empire before their plans could be implemented. Not a month afterwards, her accusor, Bochra's woman commander, just happened to be found dead in her office."

Sisko whistled. "So that's how he rose in rank so quickly."

"That_ is_ a common method of getting promoted on Romulus."

"So you think this human lady was from Nua Breizh?"

Garak smiled slyly. "As I said, Captain, it is all merely idle speculation. A theory, which happens to fit the few available facts."

"Maybe she'll show up at Quark's this evening..." he mused. "What was her name?"

"Now, Captain, you know I never mention names unless absolutely necessary. It would do you no good anyway, because on Romulus, a noble lady's true name is only known to her family and most intimate friends. This woman adopted that custom, so I only know her allias."

"I'll just have to watch Bochra and see if he recognizes anyone, then," Sisko said, prodding the tailor for more information.

Garak gestured toward the golden dress as he was putting on the finishing touches. "This gown is for the co-regent of Nua Breizh. A servant put in the order, so I did not meet her. Just a suggestion, but you may want to watch and see if our good Commander recognizes the woman who will be wearing _this_ gown."

"Thank you, Mr. Garak." Finally satisfied that Garak had given him sufficient information, Sisko turned to leave.

"In exchange for my assistance you will inform me if my theory is correct, of course?"

Sisko raised an eyebrow. "Of course."


	4. Chapter 4

That evening, Quark's was the most lively it had been in months. Sisko could hear the sound of drums and Breton pipes coming from the bar well before he got close enough to see inside. His son, Jake, joined him on the Promenade. No doubt he was doing a report on the event.

"Hey, Dad," Jake said in his usual, cheerful manner.

"Jake-o," he responded, shaking his son's hand.

"This is going to be a great party. I know you're probably not really interested, but I can't wait. It's going to make a great story."

Sisko smiled warmly at his son, "I might be more interested than you think."

"Really?" the younger Sisko asked. "That's not like you."

"Yeah," the elder replied, "This will be a great opportunity to practice my French."

Jake laughed in disbelief. "Come on, Dad, you're not interested in French. Besides, you know Breton isn't the same French we speak in New Orleans."

"It isn't?" Sisko asked, pretending to sound surprised. Before Jake could answer, Ezri Dax appeared at the lift terminal.

"Old Man," Sisko called to her, "Care to join us on the way to Quark's?" He had been trying hard to make her feel welcome since she came to the station. It was still hard to get used to Ezri, but there were definitely moments where Sisko felt that she was the same old Dax.

"Don't mind if I do, Benjamin," she said with a twinkle in her eye. Yes, she really was the same old Dax. That gave Sisko an idea.

When they walked into Quark's, Jake had already forgotten his father's nonsense about practicing French, and was off to interrogate some poor soul for his story. Sisko was relieved. It would probably not be a good thing if his own private entertainment ended up in one of Jake's headlines. The Romulans would _not_ be happy.

He was in the middle of imagining Senator Letant furiously demanding an explanation as to why Commander Bochra was the object of frivolous gossip in his son's newspaper, when he realized that Ezri was trying to get his attention. "Ok, Benjamin, what are you thinking about?" Sisko smiled. He knew that Ezri shared both Jadzia and Curzon Dax's love of gossip and intrigue, so he decided to let her in on his secret speculations. He quietly gave her a brief rundown of the day's events. As he had predicted, she was indeed interested in being a part of the scheme.

"Look," Ezri said softly, glancing behind him at the entrance. "The Romulans are here." Sisko turned, as inconspicuously as he could manage. General Velal and Commander Bochra walked up to the bar and ordered a drink. Sisko was sure that Quark kept a stock of Romulan ale for such occasions.

Some of the Bretons approached Sisko and Ezri and offered them a cup of friendship. They both politely participated in the drinking ritual, and the two Bretons left them soon afterward to join in a dance. Ezri voiced what Sisko was thinking. "Lady Allaire has not arrived yet."

Sisko looked around the room. He could hear O'Brien and a few of the Bretons explaining to Jake and Dr. Bashir the differences among the various remaining and extinct Celtic nations. On the other side of the room, Martok was roaring with laughter and slapping Worf on the shoulder. Worf was his usual reserved self, but he seemed to be at least mildly amused about whatever they were discussing.

"The Romulans don't look like they're ever going to move from the bar." He found himself nervously tapping his foot to the rhythm of the music.

"You know, you look more nervous than the Commander," Ezri teased him.

"You can tell he's nervous?" Sisko realized that his anticipation had hindered his observational skills.

"He keeps looking at the entrance. He's waiting for her to arrive. I _know_ it."

The dance finished. For what he knew must have been the hundredth time, he glanced over at the Romulans. Velal was speaking to Quark, but Bochra was looking intently at the entrance. Sisko watched as the Romulan's back straightened. He turned to see what Bochra saw. Lords Tierney and Cahal Allaire stood in the doorway, each with a woman at his side. Sisko quickly deduced that the woman holding Tierney's hand must be his wife. The other woman was wearing Garak's gold dress. Another glance in the Romulans' direction answered his question. Bochra _did_ recognize her…

"_Dabo!"_ shouted the people at the table next to him. Sisko and Ezri exchanged knowing glances. "I couldn't have said it better myself," Dax commented, with that twinkle in her eye.


	5. Chapter 5

Commander Bochra let out his breath in a hiss. He realized that he had stopped breathing. The moment he had been hoping for, yet at the same time dreading, had come. What should he do? He had spent the entire afternoon trying to decide just that, but the solution had eluded him.

No other woman had occupied his thoughts since he had last seen her, when they had escaped from the Cardassians with DeSeve and LaForge. He had scoffed at Stefan DeSeve's confession of love for her, but now he found that he was guilty of those amorous feelings himself.

He yearned to speak with her. But would she speak to him? She said she had forgiven him for his part in Sela's conspiracy; but she was somewhat angry, though civil, with him when they had parted. He had avenged the attempt on her life since then, though he surmised that she was probably unaware of his efforts on her behalf.

But he _had_ saved her life. Surely she would not refuse to at least exchange pleasantries. Undoubtedly not. Lady Ǽselin was a woman who took honor very seriously, as she had demonstrated at their first meeting. _But_, he reminded himself, _her name is not really Ǽselin_. He had no doubt that he would learn her real name that very evening. It was not something he could have escaped, even if he wanted to, and he did not. _Sadly, she would never tell me herself, though she had told Stefan DeSeve…She probably gives more credit to him for escaping from the Cardassians. _ He checked his jealousy before it could boil to the surface.

Bochra watched as Captain Sisko walked over and greeted the Breton regents. The party then engaged in that drinking ritual he had seen the other Bretons doing, passing the cup from one person to the next, each person taking a sip from the friendship cup. They then dispersed and began to mingle with the other people in the bar. The music started again, and this time some of the Starfleet personnel joined the dance. The lady was still holding the cup as she began talking to the Trill officer. _Ezri Dax_, he recalled from the meeting that afternoon.

A few feet away, General Velal was still haggling about Bochra knew not what with that Ferengi barkeep, who was assuredly trying to swindle the general. Bochra could feel his heart beating to the time of the music. It reminded him of the sensation he had felt as the hostile atmosphere of Galorndon Core slowly ate away at his nerves while he was stranded on that terrible planet. _This is not the time for cowardice_, he scolded himself.

The Romulan had no sooner made up his mind to seek the lady out, when, as if by magic, she suddenly appeared right before him. He instinctively bowed to her in a military-like fashion. A swift glance at his collar with her piercing, dark eyes informed her of his change in rank.

"_Commander_ Bochra," she greeted him, "congratulations on your promotion."

"Thank you, Lady," was all he could manage to say at first. She was even more beautiful than he had remembered. Her appearance was positively regal, her gown matching the diadem that encircled her forehead and held her long, dark hair away from her face.

Regaining control after his momentary paralysis, Bochra raised an eyebrow. "Lady?" he asked, fully aware of his boldness, yet confident that she would not refuse his request. She paused for a brief moment as she felt the full meaning of the question. "Guinevere Allaire of Nua Breizh," she responded unflinchingly. Bochra felt the corners of his mouth turn up slightly with his triumph. Behind him, he could hear that General Velal and the Ferengi were still deep in conversation.

"I am very pleased that our paths have crossed again," he began. "And, though these are not perhaps the best of circumstances, your situation is certainly better than it was when we last met."

"That much is certain," Guinevere agreed. "Indeed, it is cold day in hell, _non_?"

"Pardon?"

"I mean your people have allied with the Federation."

Bochra raised an eyebrow slyly, "As have _yours_, my lady."

"As I said, 'a cold day in hell,'" she replied. Bochra laughed with pleasure. He had almost forgotten that she had what he considered to be an unusual, though not unpleasant, sense of humor.

"But," said she, taking a drink from the goblet, "better to be allies with the Federation than the slaves of the Dominion, do you not agree, Commander?" She offered him the cup, raising her delicately arched, dark eyebrow. He held her gaze as he accepted the offer. "Yes, my lady," he answered, taking a sip.


	6. Chapter 6

Guinevere Allaire, co-regent of Nua Breizh, opened the box carefully, reverently. Inside was a sword. It had belonged to her grandmother. She took it out and began her exercises. She was frustrated, confused. She was trying not to think about Commander Bochra. She was attracted to him, but she held her inclinations in check. _It's only because he reminds me of Tævek_, she told herself. It was his self confidence, which sometimes bordered on arrogance, which most reminded her of her deceased husband.

Guinevere had only known Tævek for three months. Her brothers, who had noticed the chemistry between herself and the then newly-appointed Romulan diplomat to Nua Breizh, thought a marriage would be a good way to maintain amicable relations with the Romulan Empire. Guinevere had certainly liked Tævek, and vice versa. He was handsome, intelligent, and had never failed to treat her with the greatest respect. They had always had cordial relations, and she was devastated, crushed, over his death. But she was not sure that she had actually loved him. And there was always that feeling she had, that he looked upon her as though she had been some kind of prize. She would never know…

And yet…Bochra was decidedly different. Bochra admired her because she had come to her consort's defense. Tævek had _expected_ it. Furthermore, though he was courteous, she perceived that Tævek never seemed to think that her culture and traditions were important. She felt that he had wanted her to be a Romulan. Bochra, on the other hand, conveyed the impression that he esteemed her and her people for who they were. Bochra was a soldier; Tævek was a diplomat and politician.

Guinevere continued her exercises, pushing herself as far as she could go; trying to discover what Tævek's feelings had been, as well as her own. When she was nearly finished, she finally decided that she would never know. In any case, it was probably best to not make another similar mistake.

There was a slight noise behind her. She whirled her sword around, intending to stop just short of slashing whoever it was who dared to intrude upon her privacy. Instead, her sword resounded against another sword. It was none other than Commander Bochra.

"You have been trained to fight?" he asked, bedazzled.

With a quick movement of her wrist, she effortlessly flung his sword right out of his hand, sending it flying across the hall. He held his hands up in mock surrender, and then began to laugh. "My lady, I have _grievously_ underestimated you!"

"Let us hope the Jem'Hadar will do the same," she answered simply.

"I have no doubt that they would, if the situation ever arose."

"Tell me, Commander, is it true that they don't take prisoners?"

"Yes, Milady," he replied candidly.

"Good."

He smiled, and continued the previous topic. "I though your people did not permit women to fight in your wars."

"It is true. But I cannot always count on a man being around to defend me, as you have seen for yourself. The women of Earth learned this lesson a very long time ago. I may not be going into battle with my brothers, but I _can_ defend myself, and I'm not afraid of death or pain."

"I believe you." His high regard changed to concern. "But everyone is afraid of something. What are you afraid of?"

"Dishonor," she answered after a moment's hesitation.

"_You?_ _Dishonored?"_ he asked, genuinely surprised. He shook his head. "Never. You have already proven that. You are far too tenacious to ever tolerate that from anyone."

An awkward silence ensued. Then he looked away, for once not able to hold her gaze. "I came to say goodbye," he said finally. The fleet is going into battle soon, as you probably know. I just wanted to say that I will never forget you, Guinevere Allaire of Nua Breizh." It was the first time he had spoken her real name.

"You must come and visit us when the war is over," she said bravely.

He swallowed. "Guinevere, I…" Overhead, the signal for the Romulan Commanders to return to their ships sounded. "…I must go," he finished. He walked away.

"Bochra," she called. Immediately he turned. "You didn't accept my invitation."

"I will come. I swear it. .Milady," he smiled dashingly. And with a bow he went to his ship.


	7. Chapter 7

The Promenade was bustling, but not with the usual assortment of traders, smugglers, merchants, and buyers. Garak had not had any customers all morning. DS9 was swarming with soldiers who were much too busy to be interested in shopping. They were the soldiers of the Federation, the Klingons, the Romulans, and other peoples he had seen seldom before, or had only heard about. They were all going to their ships. The Alliance fleet was being mobilized. Garak had seen all of this before. By the afternoon, the Promenade would be what he imagined Sisko would call a "ghost town."

Garak patiently kept an eye on the fitness center across the way. Earlier, he just happened to notice Commander Bochra watch Lady Ǽselin/Allaire walk in. The Romulan had paused, and with a determined expression on his face, went in after her. Garak was amused. If Sisko had been there, he would have been hanging in the doorway of his shop like a hawk. Perhaps he would have actually gone into the gym. The tailor smiled to himself.

Before long, Commander Bochra came out. The look on his face suggested to Garak that he was berating himself_. I see it didn't go well for you, Commander. That's too bad_. Bochra was so preoccupied, that he nearly ran right into Lord Cahal Allaire. Garak listened carefully to their conversation.

"Commander Bochra, I must speak with you." Cahal Allaire was young, probably a little younger than his sister, but he was not naïve.

"Your pardon, my Lord," Bochra said hastily, "but I am in a hurry."

"I will not keep you long. It is a matter of honor," the human insisted. _So like your sister_, thought Garak, who had an idea of what was coming.

"Very well, what do you require of me?"

"I'll be frank. What are your intentions toward my sister?" Cahal demanded.

Bochra's jaw dropped. "Intentions?"

"Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. I've seen the way you look at her. She's already had her heart broken by one of your kind before, and I won't let it happen again."

"I assure you, my Lord, _that_ is not my intention," Bochra answered defensively.

"Then what is?" Cahal asked, barely controlling his anger.

Bochra exhaled. "I am aware of her...troubles…while she was on Romulus. It was my former superior officer who tried to have your sister killed. What you are no doubt unaware of is that she has been avenged, and it was _I_ who avenged her."

Cahal was crestfallen. He blinked, not knowing what to say. Bochra continued. "Yes, I do care for your sister, my Lord, but I have no intention of telling her. I agree with you that she has suffered enough grief. If I die in this war, which is not an unlikely possibility, she will loose a friend, an admirer. Nothing more," he walked past Cahal without another word.

Cahal Allaire stood there for a moment as the Romulan's words sank into his mind. Garak watched as the human composed himself, and then met his sister as she walked out onto the Promenade. The two exchanged tender, though brief, farewells, and Cahal went on, to his own ship, Garak assumed. The lady slowly and sadly made her way to the large window not far from where she was standing. She watched as the Romulan warbird just outside, Bochra's ship, pulled away from the dock, and floated away.

Of all the people on the Promenade at that time, Garak realized he was probably the only person who had any idea of the inner struggle that must have been going on underneath her composure. _Well_, he said to himself, _that was undoubtedly the most interesting, albeit unfortunate, distraction I've had in a long time_.

The end (for now—another sequel is in the making).


End file.
